Only a Shadow of Darkness
by Jantra
Summary: Jantra, Watcher of the Ouji Vejita, survived the years since the destruction of her home planet of Vejita. This is her beginning. ~*~ Chapter One Uploaded.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own DragonBall Z nor any of its characters, I simply am using them for my enjoyment. Jantra and the Kurai no Saiya-jin are my own creation! You may not use either of them unless permission is granted! 

**Chapter** **Rating**: PG

**Author's** **Note**: This story is ancient. I began it YEARS ago, and have decided to put it up on FF.net to see if anyone likes it. It will be sort of short, unless everyone likes it that much. I will ONLY continue this if I get enough reviews. With my other fic, and one soon to be coming, this would be hard to upkeep. But if it is clearly enjoyed, I will keep writing it. So please, if you like it, review! 

** Only a Shadow of Darkness**

_ By: Jantra Hokushin_

**   Chapter 1:  Fledgling Darkness**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She slammed back into the rock of the wall that surrounded the arena, slow beads of sweat trickling down her face and dripping onto the hot sand under her feet. Cold eyes resembled steel, narrowed as her opponent did some quick motions with his fingers. The tips of her toes slid up to a tiny foothold in the stone, just enough…Yes, one more… There! With her fingers digging into the stone, she pushed up and off with a thrust of her feet, back flipping over the huge ball of blue ki that had been blasted at the place she had been standing. Her arms tucked in against her chest, fingers moving in a flurry of arcane movements that came so easily to her. As soon as her bare feet scraped into the sand, the lithe body slid into a position that she'd been taught since birth. Hands extended themselves away from her body, the calloused fingers bent and controlling the power that lay behind them. The silver energy curled and fluxed between her palms, twisting and seething as it came alive, looking for an escape. With a nudge of her mind and a sudden out thrust with her arms, it leaped out of its mind melded prison and came into view, the silver ki skipping through the air and diving towards her enemy. The man gave the slightest smirk and easily sidestepped the simple ki ball. He watched the silver path it created, watched it skim into the rocks behind him. The smirk spread abit more, and he turned back to the girl before him, mouth opening to say something in retort to the attack. But the words were cut off as a second, far stronger ball of energy slammed home into his chest. It was still weak compared to his own strength, but enough to set him back on his backside, feeling the tiny grains of sand dig into his bare thigh. A finger ran down his chest plate, glowering at the scorch mark that had suddenly appeared on its gleaming surface. He heard the softest giggle, and peered upwards to see the little girl, still in a tensed warrior's position but a smile splitting her lips, showing those sharp little teeth. He had often called her a _yeatra_ for that smile, so like the hunting grins of the little cats that roamed the plains of their home planet. 

Brushing the sand from himself, he stood, the giant body coming up and casting a long shadow that just stopped at the girl's feet. After a second, he nodded, and her pose relaxed. He bowed to her, and the second she began to shuffle into the same motions he dashed forward impossibly fast, covering the short distance between them in a matter of seconds. His fist came upwards, aiming for where he knew her forehead would be. But instead of hitting the fragile skull, he hit nothing. The sudden lack of something he was so sure was there knocked him and his senses off balance, making him have to move his one foot to recover it. That second of unbalanced motion was more then enough for the young girl to slip under him, grabbing his ankle through his spread legs, jerking him off the singly planted foot as she skid to a stop and stood. A glimpse of wide eyes in shock, and he was down on the sand. A hand splayed, and he gave a hard push with every muscle in his arm, and with the added energy of a ki blast he was pushed up into the heavens, soaring above the knowing girl. Her head jerked upwards and with fast thrusts of her arms, sent stinging ki bolts into him. He ignored the obvious attack and waited for the second to come. His vision distorted as she vanished from the sand below him without even leaving a mark, and he barrel rolled in the air as a kick came down from above. A thick hand came up to snag her ankle as it zoomed past, and the power of his roll turned into a throw that sent her slamming into the sand and skimming the soil under it for about a hundred feet. He placed one hand behind the other in his hanging pose, and called forth a hint of his power, letting it roll about in his front palm before sending it to chase the girl's path. 

Hiding the pain, she rolled free of the path that she knew the energy was taking. But instead of it flowing past it, it veered and headed towards her. Growling in frustration, she used her natural quickness to quickly jump backwards in rapid steps that looked like flight, keeping herself only a few paces in front of the potentially dangerous ki. Finally she kicked in her true flight, and bolted into the embrace of the sky, keeping a single eye out for the energy's master. With a smirk she canceled the blast with one of her own, and spun and blocked the oncoming punch with a palm, returning it. The two mismatched warriors exchanged a flurry of kicks and punches, just trying to get in that one hit a few seconds ahead of the other. But despite their differences in power and size, they were equals as they skimmed through the air faster then sight. The tiny hands caught his massive ones, perhaps having to put more effort into each block but still keeping him at distance. Finally, after a few more of the swift clashings, her hand stopped in its path of a block, and she ducked under his punch to uppercut him in his unshaven jaw. Her fists pulled back, doubled up, then crashed down onto his dirty head. The double attack sent him spiraling into the sand, where he made a sizable hole in the training arena. He sat up after a few seconds, wondering why she hadn't continued why he was down. Both eyebrows shot up as he stared in shocked horror at the scene in the air. 

Before the young girl was a short man, but the power in his stature was obvious even to a blind man, it rolled off him in waves. She looked just as equally stunned. The warrior before her put out a hand, palm forward. Without even thinking, she dove down, and hooked the side of his boot to throw him down. He remained unmoved, and turned slowly, sending the opposite foot into her gut, then followed with a blast that rumbled the surrounding stones. The girl was sent into a dive, and hit the dirt limply. The warrior above her gave a commanding smirk, and landed beside her.

"The King commands you to be in the throne room, one hour… cleaned." And he vanished into the palace, wind snapping his cloak. A single tiny fist slammed into the ground with a growl just behind it, muttered curses barely heard as the young girl lay there on her belly, blood trickling from lip and eyebrow. Her eyes were closed tightly as she gritted her teeth against the bruising pain, slowly rising to her elbows. Toes scrambled for purchase in the sand, caught, and aided to push her into a sitting position. Both fists were clenched tightly, pain no longer shown on her face but a barely hidden boiling rage.

"Why?? Why after just ONCE…?" She muttered angrily to herself, but she finally stood, brushing herself off. The once-time enemy came over, peering over her shoulder.

"Jantra…" 

"Out of my WAY Nappa!" She gave him a hard shove into his chest, and ignored him as she stormed into the palace. 

A hand come up, balled into a fist, rubbing across a cheek and nose, leaving an uneven crimson streak on her knuckles. Damned that prince… she had a cold aura about her, sending others diving for shelter as they felt her presence. Stepping into her room, she stripped out of the light training outfit she'd been wearing. Armor was too heavy, too clumsy, for someone her size and power. Hands grabbed the dirty shirt and rubbed at her mouth and nose until the bleeding stopped. Eyes searched the room for a moment, then pulled on a black outfit. The Vegeta-sei royal symbol, threaded in silver, flowed over the right side of her chest. Boots and gloves to match the outfit followed it, and she was on her way, fingers smoothing out the rough tangles in her mass of spiky black hair. The silver in its layers gleamed softly in the dull light of the hallway. From far away, sounds of hundreds of saiya-jins getting ready to meet the King filled her ears, telling her without words that this was an important meeting. But why would the King ask for her specifically to be there? 

Technically, she was the Watcher of the Ouji Vejita. At a year older then the prince, he was twice her power level and half her size. She was the only female in the royal household. The highest warriors of the King had homes inside the palace with their mates or servants, but none of them were considered royalty. A sigh slid over her lips. It was no use to wonder about the future until it arrived. She paused outside the tiny door that would lead out into the main throne room, the tiny side-door used only when coming through this round and about way. Tiny fingers wrapped around the intricate door handle and pushed it open. Thousands, not the mere hundreds, of saiya-jins greeted her eyes. She hissed quietly under her breath and began weaving her way through the mass of people towards the upraised platform that held the King's throne. 

The throne room never failed to amaze her, even though she spent a great deal of time there. It could hold about half the entire population of the kingdom at any one point, and had golden curls of woodwork coursing throughout the huge room. The royal symbol was used over and over again in the design of the throne room, its silver trim letting each one show through. The throne itself was a massive thing of black granite that held the mystical blue stones of the ancient times. She could already see the King, his dark brooding form made so small by the immense throne he sat on. His son, Vejita, stood at his side. The prince was only a few years old, but already wore the royal formal battle armor with its royal blue and white surface. 

Feet finally found the bottom step of the dais, and she walked up the next three steps, and knelt, fist pressed over her heart, head bowed. When the King did not make his usual sound of greeting, she hesitantly looked up. The King glared at her in silence, something dark moving in that vile gaze. Jantra stood, and moved to the Ouji's side, behind him slightly, as was her place. The King finally cleared his throat, sending the mass of saiya-jins into silence. The King stood, his face cast into shadow by the lights above his head.

"I know that this meeting was sudden. But I think you will find it all worthwhile. Most of you knows about The King's Tournament, but for those new to the palace I will explain." A few whispers sprang up here and there, to die as the King glared at the speakers. "The King's Tournament may only be called twice in a King's ruling; once when deciding the new rankings of each warrior, the second when the future Heir comes of age. During the Tournament, the contestants will be placed into levels, depending on their placement last year, or where their trainer dictates they should be. Skills are tested first, either in groups for the lowest levels, and one on one for the higher levels. Then those who survive will be placed against another of their rank and be placed with one on one duels. The winner of those duels will move on, and on, until the final two warriors are left. The victor of that duel will be awarded any want they may have and the King's Pendant." The King turned to a servant at his side, and from a carefully padded box pulled forth a pendant on a slim gold chain. The pendant was the symbol of the King, with one of those strange blue stones set into the center. The crowd whispered quietly. The King did not silence them this time, but only spoke over the noise. "I call the First Tournament to begin in two days!" And with that he turned and placed the pendant back into the case. The saiya-jins below roared their approval. But in the din, the King gestured for the Ouji and his Watcher to come forward. He lifted his hand, and the crowd went silent again. "For this Tournament, I place the Ouji, Vejita, and his Watcher, Jantra, in the third level rankings!" The crowd made not a sound for a moment, then broke out in a riot. The prince had never before been allowed to enter the First Tournament, and no female was permitted, ever. "WHOEVER dares to go against my orders will be dealt with by my own hand! You are all dismissed!" And the King turned on his heel and walked through the huge double doors that would lead back to his rooms. The Ouji looked rather strangely, glaring at the doors long after his father had passed through them. Jantra stood silently, eyes narrowed. Why would the King do such a move, and why would he place the pair of them so high in the rankings? Only time would tell…

She stared up at the nighttime sky from the balcony of her room, fingers gripping the railing. At only ten years old, Jantra was more mature then some of the warriors on the planet. The King had seen to that. A Watcher had to be. Her head turned as a footstep echoed in the room behind her.

"Greetings, Vejita." But as she turned, a tiny gasp escaped her, and she feel to a knee, hand over heart. "Greetings, King." He accepted her correction with a grunt, and stared over the winking lights of the kingdom below.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I did what I did." Well, of course she was. She waited patiently until he answered her thoughts. "Do you remember why I made you my son's Watcher?" A frown crept over her face. It was a rare day in Hell when the King actually called the Ouji his son. 

"That there was something different about me."

"And there is. I think its time you knew what the difference was." He stood to his full height, a strange emotion chiseled into that rock solid face. He turned on his heel, and she knew without having to be told to follow. He led her deep into the bowels of the palace, led past all the halls she knew until she was hopelessly lost. Finally he stood before a small door. It was stained black, with curling silver dashing over its surface.

"This is that difference." And after unlocking the portal, he opened the door.

**Note**: As said above, if you enjoyed this, please review. I will only keep writing this fic if I get enough reviews for it. If so, keep an eye out for the second chapter of this fic, **The Birth of Truth.**


End file.
